


Coral Sunset

by Almonde



Category: Tenet (2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almonde/pseuds/Almonde
Summary: If all they had was a life free of ashes and gunfires, and a romance that was simple but passionate.(A translation of my work into English using DeepL)
Relationships: Neil & The Protagonist (Tenet), Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Coral Sunset

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Coral Sunset](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867854) by [Almonde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almonde/pseuds/Almonde). 



> I don't tend to write in English but I felt the translation is quite nicely done (btw DeepL is just great when u want to translate Chinese to English  
> And so I decided to upload the translated version up as well!   
> Hope you like it

They fell in love in Paris in May, met in a corner cafe for a long-planned encounter, said Je t'aime over and over again to each other in their unfamiliar French, then laughed and corrected the perhaps awkward pronunciations, the milk bubbles left in the corners of their mouths wiped away by butterfly kisses.

Neil took the man's hand and led him through the streets and alleys, the late spring early summer breeze carrying the scent of daisies to his face, disturbing his blonde hair. The striped shirt with the open collar was creased by the wind, their leather shoes treading the smooth stone pavement, they sidestepped a few pigeons fluttering their wings and turned to avoid the stalls selling fruit, the sweet juices of oranges and peaches filling the air tinged with a hint of heat. Grabbing a handful of watery strawberries and slipping a few notes into the vendor's hands, he turned back to his dark-skinned lover and pitched the tart berries to him, seeing the indulgence and sparkle in those chocolate eyes.

Like buds suddenly opening one afternoon, the emotions hidden in their eyes were exposed in that space by alcohol and fingers too close together, the old-fashioned air conditioner overhead occasionally buzzing to block out the noise of those few confessions. But how could those intimate gestures lie, the hazy figures that appeared in every night's sleep gradually overlapping with the face in front of him, eyes, ears, tip of nose, lips, jaw, he traced the dreamy outline in his mind's eye before leaning down to envelop the other man in an overly passionate wet French kiss.

"Protagonist."

The boy with eyes as clean and blue as a glacier pronounced the word, and it was in that moment that the English vocabulary that onlookers would consider boring was given more meaning.

"You are the protagonist in the story of my life."

“In the love story?"

"No," he tugged him a little closer until their hot, wet breath hit each other's cheeks, “Everything, all of it, you stroll through every corner of my life."

The sugar cubes fell into the teacups, splashing a few drops of bitter coffee; the icing on the lemon tart was scooped up by the young Englishman, and the fluffy cream of the strawberry cake ended up on the tips of their noses and mouths, causing the two men to look down and smile before looking at each other again, picking up the handkerchief on the corner of the table to wipe away the lovely, sweet traces. The man watched as the blond boy picked up the cherry on the glass plate with his long, thin fingers and took the full fruit into his mouth, the berry-red juice staining those thin lips with a seductive colour, the tip of his tongue licking the soiled fingertips, igniting the ball of restrained affection called love and desire.

They stood in the shade of the Champs-Elysées, interlocking their fingers as they selected fresh flowers in a wooden barrel. The girl with the healthy wheat skin saw their intimate touches at once and told the lovers the name and meaning of each flower in less than precise English. Bright tulips and sky-blue fleurs-de-lis, symbols of freedom, dazzled the eyes, bunches of light butterfly ranunculus rested on top of purple and white hyacinths, and instead of the classic roses, the girl picked out a handful of sunset coral peonies from behind her and handed the scarlet flowers to the pair.

Go run to a date that will never end, she said, and watched them ran away, hand in hand, until their backs disappeared into the crowds on the avenue.

So they ran in the direction of the riverbank, found a pleasant patch of lawn, put down their bouquets and let the brilliant midday light shine on their faces. Neil propped his head up on his arm and looked sideways at the man lying on the grass, and they stayed in silence for a while, with the breath of nature and the whistle of a passing boat in their ears.

Picking a few wild flowers from the roadside at random and pinning them behind their ears, they sat in the sunshine and exchanged a long kiss, thumbs rubbing the small sensitive patch of skin at the nape of the neck. "Take me to your house," the boy said in a lazy, pouty tone as he moved closer to Protagonist before raising his head towards the man for a kiss.

The door to the cream-coloured detached house was opened with a crisp click of the key in the locking hole and they pushed in, shutting out the stifling heat of the rising afternoon and the blinding sun. The sunset coral was in a glass vase, its lustrous petals opening slowly with the infusion of water, like a tango dancer's skirt blooming in the light, its golden stamens swaying slightly.

A cotton linen blazer and watch fall from the sofa in the sitting room, leather shoes kicked off at some point and forgotten somewhere in the corner of the house. Neil hung almost entirely over the man, his blond hair scrunched into a mess, his grey-blue eyes reflecting his lover's face as he lowers his head and kisses him on the forehead. The kisses fell gently first on the broken hair in front of his forehead, carefully, as if treating some fragile ceramic treasure, tenderly leaving a mark on his face. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn, and the hazy light floated in the air, enveloping them in a dim shadow.

A still-burning candle sat on a shelf in one corner of the room, and the silhouettes of the two men leaned together in the candlelight, Neil tilting his head slightly so that the man could unbutton his shirt more quickly. Gradually those kisses became aggressive, tongues sweeping across the rows of teeth, taking away smooth breaths, the cologne of iris and bergamot evaporating between the intimate distance, soft lips bitten and bleeding, the faint taste of rust filling the mouth.

Fingertips traced down the side of the bare neck, bringing faint shivers and gasps. The thin clothing was tossed onto the carpet and wet, slightly red eyes watched the man's thick lashes and then down to meet the eyes that were so willingly sunken. He nibbled gently on the boy's earlobe, staring at the burst of red that tinged the tip, his deft fingers once again eliciting a shiver of skin and a stifled breath. The backs of his feet tensing, Neil rested his head against his lover's shoulder, listening to the familiar, reassuring heartbeat coming from his chest.

"I want you."

He murmured in a husky voice against his ear.

The candle burned out, the darkening light blocking vision and making the other senses more and more sensitive. Outside the window the chattering birds took a short rest on the balustrade before flushing once more into the sky, the flowers and plants in the courtyard grew in the right temperature and the shifting shadows of the trees illuminated the walls in distinctive patterns. The early summer atmosphere of Paris wraps around the city in the gradual colour of the peonies, and before one can lament the passing of spring, one is pulled into the summer when everything grows.

A pale yellow petal floats silently off a branch and lies quietly on the floor. The flower was already in full bloom, as if proclaiming ardent love, flaring its colours like a flame. The soft touches, the fierce and passionate kisses, the exchange of bodies, they tell of a banquet between lovers, the seed called love becoming a vine full of green leaves that binds them together for the rest of their lives, entwined and never to be separated.

Let us return to the beginning of the story, at that time of year when spring and summer meet, when the sunset coral is in bloom.

They fell in love in Paris in May.

// 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Who would have thought it would all start with the sight of the super beautiful sunset coral peonies  
> (I'll have to buy some when May comes  
> In my mind, if we follow the original plot, the relationship between tp and neil is like the opening of a peony, from bud to opening, blooming, then fading and decaying, the whole process is just a short week, yet so gorgeous.  
> They love each other, while they watch each other head towards irreversible death.  
> But I hope that in a parallel world they can spend the rest of their long lives together forever; that like the colourful and vibrant summer that follows the short season of peonies, they will follow each other to infinite possibilities in the future.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
